


Angels Unawares

by stellar_dust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Episode: s11e08 Just My Imagination, Gen, Imaginary Friends, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellar_dust/pseuds/stellar_dust
Summary: Just before he says goodbye to your brother, you pull Sully aside. It's bothering the crap out of you, and you've got to know, but hell, this is embarrassing.Dean's kind of jealous. How come HE didn't get an imaginary friend??





	Angels Unawares

Just before he says goodbye to your brother, you pull Sully aside. It's bothering the crap out of you, and you've got to know, but hell, this is embarrassing.

"Hey, um." You clear your throat. "Can I, um, ask you something?"

“Of course, Dean!” Sully’s eyes go wide - deceptively innocent, the bastard - and he makes a move towards patting your shoulder, but your glare is enough to nip that one right in the bud. "I'm here for you, too, you know."

“Yeah, uh.” You wipe your hands down the front of your jeans. You're fidgeting back and forth on your feet, nervously, and you don't even try to meet his eyes. “That’s just it. How come I didn’t get an -- imaginary friend whatsit? I could have used one, you know.”

“Oh, Dean." The compassion in Sully's voice is really almost too much for you. "But you _did_, you’ve only forgotten.”

“I -- what?” You look up. Never in a million years did you think -- “No way, that’s not possible, I’d remember.”

“You sent her away when you were four, and then - you had so much else on your mind. It's no surprise you don't remember.” Sully does reach out, now, puts his hand tentatively on your forearm. You hardly notice, too busy trying to reel your brain back into your skull where it belongs. “Cassandra - she’s an angel, you know, white dress, wings, halo, harp - we were never close, but she briefed me before I took up my post with Sammy, and we’ve talked a few times since. She’s so, so proud of you, Dean.”

Of _fucking course_ your imaginary friend was an angel. What the hell is your life even. And you can't fight the feeling of betrayal that follows that thought, because every angel you've known - hell, apparently everyone you've ever known whose name starts with _Cas_ \- which, for any ordinary human, would be a set of one or fewer - has fucked off when you've needed them. You were _four_, for God's sake. 

“That’s --" you choke, trying to get the question out, hating how your voice breaks. "Where is she, then? Why isn’t she here?”

“She was only with you for about six months, you know. We can't stay if our kids don't want us anymore, and Cassie’s very professional. She has her latest charge now, a little girl in Argentina, I think. She’s looked in on you sometimes, though, same as I do with Sammy.”

Oh, that's -- you remember being that young, a little, not very well. The only thing you wanted was your mom back, and second to that, to be a grown-up so you could protect Sammy. There wasn't any room in there for an imaginary friend, and Dad never did believe in angels anyway. 

You feel untethered. You get it, you guess, but there were so many times you could have used a friend, dammit. Sam had Sully for so much longer …

Sully pulls you in for a hug, and you don't resist, but you don't reciprocate either. He squeezes tight, whispering, “You’ve never been as alone as you imagine, Dean. It’s all going to be okay.”

You hadn't thought of it that way. Mom always did say angels were watching over you. It's possible not all of them were dicks.

Sully pulls away, searching your eyes for something, and apparently he finds it, because he beams proudly at you before he walks away to have his MomentTM with your brother. You turn away, blinking back a sudden wetness in your eyes. It's - well. Now you know, and you feel the tiniest of weights lift, just a little, from your shoulders.


End file.
